


Of Obsessive Pursuits & The Human Condition

by orphan_account



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Demon!Shane, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-08-28 01:44:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16714156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It’s a miracle Ryan hasn’t suffered a concussion. But maybe it might have been better to be unconscious and saved, rather than conscious and stuck searching for a way back up with a flashlight that’s about to die.  ( aka the fic w demon!shane and fear kinks. Need I say more?)





	1. Chapter 1

Ryan knows firsthand just how oppressive the darkness could really be, especially when it’s inky depths swallow down every drop of colour and drains his vision dry. He doesn’t remember how long he’d been wandering aimlessly in this godforsaken place, breathing in lungfuls of musty air as he continued fumbling his way through in the hopes of finding an exit. In retrospect, they should have been more careful when exploring through grounds as derelict as this one. 

 

Maybe if he hadn’t been this distracted, he would have reacted faster when the floorboards began to give way. But nope, he fell through it headfirst, down to the hidden wing of the manor that was supposedly closed off after a series of grisly mishaps happened during construction. Some shit about curses. It’s a miracle Ryan hasn’t suffered a concussion. But maybe it might have been better to be unconscious and saved, rather than conscious and stuck searching for a way back up with a flashlight  _ that’s about to die _ . 

 

As if right on cue, the weakening beam of light emitting from his flashlight finally gives out, fizzing into nothingness, leaving Ryan at the mercy of his own imagination and the dark. An accidental brush against something has the man startling, dropping his flashlight by reflex and further frightening himself by doing so. Jesus, get it together, Ryan. Scrabbling blindly on the rotted floor to locate the tool, more so for a sense of security than anything else, he tries his best to focus on the task ahead. 

 

Just so he wouldn’t drive himself nuts thinking about what could be lurking within the void with him. Waiting, watching. 

 

“Do not be afraid.” Ryan doesn’t know why he feels the need to whisper but he does so anyway, as if worried about disturbing the stillness of his surroundings. “Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid.” 

 

In the distance, he hears the tell tale sign of thunder rumbling. Before long, it’s declaration is accompanied by the unmistakable sound of rain falling. Ryan isn’t a fan of the cold normally but given a choice, he’d rather be outside and soaking wet just about now. His unease is only slightly soothed when his fumbling fingers made contact with the familiar grooves of his flashlight. Okay, he’s got this. He just needs to find an exit, find some place in the manor where he could make use of his satellite phone to request for help, he’s going to get out of here and never fucking come back to this damn place again. 

 

Now if only he could get rid of the stupid feeling of being watched. The further he continues on, the more the hairs on the back of his neck prickle with the sensation akin to the heaviness of a gaze affixed to him. Ryan fights with the impulse to turn and pushes himself to continue. Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid. 

An abrupt burst of lightning cleaving through the skies briefly, dimly, lights up his surroundings and he startles yet again. Recoiling with an intensity that could almost be described as violent. Especially more so when the fleeting illumination of the room allows his eyes to adjust and process the silhouette of a man just two steps in front of him, close enough to bump into, had he taken a larger step forward. A grin that stretches from the end of one cheek to another in a garish mockery of humour. Too many teeth. 

 

**_H̨̛̫͈͎̣̅̿̌͘͟͜͟͠͠ë͉̳͈̗̪͍̣̤́͆̄̌̃̏̋̚͝l̛̳̯̬̞̠̖͖͎͌͛͐̍͊̾͘͟͡͞ͅļ̴͍̯͙̩̲̤̅͑̾̇̽͂͂̚͢͠ȏ̴̞͔̪͔͖͕́͂̈̚͞ R̶̡̛̙̥̝̻̝̳̱̳͐̍̄͆͊̂͑͟͠ỷ̸̛̥̹̱̗͔̲̥̏͐̋̀͠͡a̵̙͙͚̹̘̺̠̋̐̇͊̓͆̚ͅn̡̨͔̦̖̦̗̊̍̓̀́̌͡_ **

  
  


In that moment, he does the only thing any sane human being would have done. 

He runs. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ryan makes a mistake

Unfortunately, Ryan does not succeed in creating distance. He does not get to go far before the tips of long spindly fingers are brushing up against the front of his throat, freezing to the touch.

“Aww, leaving so soon? You’ve _just_ gotten here.”

A panicked noise escapes Ryan in lieu of an answer and he hears it again: the same throaty laughter, mocking in cadence. It rings in his ears, somehow loud enough that the rumbling of thunder becomes a distant backdrop despite being so close. He feels wrung out, wrought, shoved out of alignment as all the air in the space they were in was effectively removed from the equation.

“What’s wrong?” Nails pricked at his skin as the man- no _creature_ \- stroked down the length of his neck and rests his hand against Ryan’s shoulder. Had it not been for the circumstances they were in, and had he not known any better, Ryan would venture to call it’s touch friendly. “Weren’t you practically tripping over yourself trying to make contact with the ghosties a few hours ago? Didn’t think you’d actually get a response back, did you?”

The brief tightening of it’s grip is enough to shake Ryan out of whatever strange stupor he’d fallen under and he reacts. Instinct and self-preservation dictates movement and the paranormal investigator swings wildly. He feels his elbow connect with something solid and the fingers around his throat vanish as his unwanted company utters an “oof”. Though there were many things he’d rather be doing than face the man...creature...thing, he does anyways, backing up as quickly as he was able to manage without falling yet again.

“Stay away from me!”

Even the sound of Ryan’s own threats sounded weak to his own ears. What’s he going to do? Punch whatever the fuck it is to death? In fact, can it even really die?

“I’m warning you, asshole!”

As he attempts to create distance, he begins fumbling through the contents of his bag, searching desperately for something (anything) to arm himself with. It doesn’t take long before scrabbling fingers found purchase against a cylindrical but sturdy bottle. That’s right! Before he made the trip here, Ryan had taken the time to get another bottle of water blessed. TJ may have teased the hell out of him for it but hey look who’s laughing now? ~~Still not him.~~  Another clap of lightning briefly lights up their surroundings once more. Though fleeting it may be, he’s able to catch sight of his unexpected companion and the amusement that further distorted the mockery of a human smile on it’s face. Whatever it was, it’s toying with Ryan. Comprehension transforms fear into anger, which the paranormal investigator is quick to cling onto.

Much like testing boundaries, the being takes another challenging step towards him and he reacts quick. Taking blind aim with the nozzle of the bottle, Ryan squeezes so that a quick jet of holy water is dispersed towards the other.

He revels in the pained hiss that follows.

“Yeah that’s right, fucker. Not laughing now, are you?” To his credit, his voice only wavers the tiniest bit. The knowledge that the sick bastard could be hurt also serves to bolster Ryan’s confidence. “I’ve got more of where that came from so you get the hell away from me.” Truthfully, he doesn’t know what to expect. Maybe for his warning shot to be enough of a deterrence for him to escape. Maybe to meet a painful and grisly end instantly. But what his attempt at defending himself got was laughter. Full-bodied yet discordant enough to leave an unpleasant ringing in his ears.

“Ohoho, looks like the ol Bergmeister brought some toys with him.”

Abruptly, all the air within Ryan is forced out of him when he’s bodily lifted by nothing in particular. Struggling against his invisible bonds, he kicks his legs out on instinct, seeking purchase. Impact leaves Ryan reeling when his back connects with damp rotting wood, with enough force that he breaks through and was sent tumbling into...what used to be a private study within the manor.  Unlike the hidden wing, moonlight floods into the study, casting an eerie glow to it’s unused surroundings as he laid sprawled on the ground, wheezing. Before Ryan could think to do anything, his unwanted company steps into view. It’s light enough to see that his aim had caught the other a little below the eye, leaving a splotch of disintegrating and oozing black tar-like substance against an otherwise unmarked face.

“It’s so nice to find someone that wants to play.” Long nails- claws- his mind supplies helpfully, scratches down the length of his nose. The creature leans in close enough for Ryan to see four pupils, dimly glowing with malevolent energy when they squint.

“But you really shouldn’t have done that.”

As he spoke, Ryan watches with renewed horror as the injury closes up and seemingly melts away into nothingness.

“Now let’s try that again, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thankfully for Ryan, prolonged periods of age and water damage have ensured that the rotted wood doesn't need much pressure to give way. Otherwise, that probably would have sucked way worse. Still though, his back is probably gonna be feeling that eventually

**Author's Note:**

> You can let me know what you think of it in the comments or over here at my [blog](https://spoopybruh.tumblr.com/)


End file.
